Dreams

I used to dream a lot about being lost or left behind.  I had a distinct, cartoonish dream at a very young age – maybe 6 or 7 – where I came from somewhere and my house was gone and my mom was gone.  It was very disturbing.  Like when you go shopping with your mom, and she’s taking forever looking at stuff, so you start wandering around and going inside the racks and the next thing you know, your mom has wandered off and you can’t find her.

I had another very vivid dream a couple years later where my mom and her friend were playing trivial pursuit.  Only the winner got to keep me.  It was truly terrifying because, although my mom’s friend was very nice, I did not want to live with her.  

Really, all of this is Freud’s fault.  If I wasn’t taking a literary theory class right now, where we had to read a selection from his Interpretation of Dreams, I wouldn’t be thinking about dreams.  It’s funny what you remember though.  After all these years, those dreams are still very vivid in my mind.  Out of all the crazy things that have happened in my head (and there’s some interesting stuff, I’m sure), this is what I remember best.